etter, if Arthur had grown up into
a strong, manly character, I should have been eager to trust my daughter
to him. But my doubts about him were confirmed by the will. And--he is
simply a fortune-hunter now."

Janet had hidden her face in her handkerchief. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed.
"You wrong him, mother."

"You haven't encouraged him, Janet!" cried Mrs. Whitney. "After what I've
been writing you?"

"The loss of his money hasn't made any difference about him with me,"
said Janet, her pure, sweet face lighting up with the expression that
made her mother half-ashamed of her own worldliness.

"Of course not! Of course not, Janet," said she. "No child of mine could
be mercenary without being utterly false to my teachings."

Janet's expression was respectful, yet not confirmatory. She had often
protested inwardly against the sordid views of life which her mother
unconsciously held and veiled with scant decency in the family circle in
her unguarded moments. But she had fought against the contamination, and
proudly felt that her battle for the "higher plane" was successful.

Her mother returned, somewhat awkwardly, to the main point. "I hope you
didn't encourage him, Janet."

"I don't wish to talk of it, mother," was Janet's reply. "I have not been
well, and all this has upset me."

Mrs. Whitney was gnawing her palms with her nails and her lip with her
teeth. She could scarcely restrain herself from seizing her daughter and
shaking the truth, whatever it was, out of her. But prudence and respect
for her daughter's delicate soul restrained her.

"You have made it doubly hard for me," Janet went on. "Your writing me to
stay away because there was doubt about Arthur's material future--oh,
mother, how could that make any difference? If I had not been feeling so
done, and if father hadn't been looking to me to keep him company, I'd
surely have gone. For I hate to have my motive misunderstood."

"He has worked on her soft-heartedness and inexperience," thought Mrs.
Whitney, in a panic.

"And when Arthur came to-day," the girl continued, "I was ready to fly to
him." She looked tragic. "And even when he repulsed me--"

"_Repulsed_ you!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney. She laughed disagreeably. "He's
subtler than I thought."

"Even when he repulsed me," pursued Janet, "with his sordid way of
looking at everything, still I tried to cling to him, to shut my eyes."

Mrs. Whitney vented an audible sigh of relief. "Then you didn't le